


Changes

by Heronfem



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Magical Accidents, Qunari Dorian, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6749554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident changes Dorian's body from human to Qunari.  Bull is almost embarrassingly into this, Dorian adjusts, and everything works out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon. I wrote the first part of this forever ago, finally decided to finish it, and made a great deal of changes.  
> Originally posted here: http://heronfem.tumblr.com/post/130924916728

There was a Qunari in front of him wearing eye shadow.

Bull was pretty certain he should be more freaked out, but as the Dorian-who-wasn't-Dorian-but-was gathered his robes around his lower half rather hastily to preserve his modesty, all he could think was _eye shadow looks good against the bronze_. His eye traveled over Dorian's long, lean form, fascinated. He was just as beautiful as a Qunari as human, if not more so, though he might have been biased. Long, shapely legs ended in surprisingly delicate feet. Lean hips merged to a taut, graceful torso, solid shoulders became smooth, graceful arms ending in long fingers tipped with inch long claws. He'd kept the mustache, though his hair was rather destroyed by the horns, fluffing up into a sharp mohawk.

_Horns._

He remembered when he was younger, seeing the Arishok pass by with his attendants fluttering around him as he made his way to a meeting. His horns were magnificent, back swept and gleaming in the sun. Dorian's new horns were exactly the same, but a rich, dark color like Bull's instead of the milder light brown of the Arishok's.

“-listening to me?”

He blinked, realizing Dorian was bristling in front of him, teeth bared. His incisors looked sharp, deliciously so.

“Bull!”

“Right, yeah, I'm here,” he managed, stepping forward to touch Dorian's arm. “Um. This is new.” Dorian's skin was still soft, but tougher now. Sturdier. Bull could touch him without checking his strength. 

“Understatement,” Dorian snapped, and _shit_. His voice was so sweet and gravelly all at once, with a bit more bass than before. He smelled irresistible. Bull stepped in closer, rubbing their cheeks together and relishing the sweet scent that released as he did. “What are you doing?”

“Scenting you,” he said absently. “So we smell the same. It'll calm down all that need to fight.”

Dorian went still as the scent glands did their work, and he knew he'd done well. All that new aggression he was feeling at another male being around Adaar had just been soothed out of him, and Bull smiled as Dorian let out a low, purring rumble and pressed into his shoulder a little. Dorian would never see Adaar as a potential mate, but she was family and reeked of Bull, and that need to be included in a unit was always strong. Antaam units used the scenting as a way to bond their groups, and Bull's teams had been all the stronger when they bonded properly.

The small child responsible was sobbing in the gazebo, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as Meershaum knelt in front of him. He looked utterly terrified, blood dripping down his arm, and let out a broken little noise of pure fear when Cullen into the garden with one of the Templars in tow.

Dorian broke away, planting himself firmly between the child and Cullen. “No,” he said firmly, making the two pause. “Meershaum's handling this. Wait outside.”

Cullen stared up at him, eyes fixed on the horns. “Arishokost, pashaara,” he said, and Bull almost choked. Dorian stared at him, somewhere between baffled and enraged.

“Excuse me?”

Cullen shook his head, blinking back memory with painful obviousness. “You look like him,” he said. “The Arishok.”

“That's lovely. I've always hoped to emulate the invader of Kirkwall,” Dorian said wryly. “ _Out_ , Cullen. We'll call you if needed.”

Cullen hesitated, but nodded and left.

Dorian turned to the child, and carefully knelt down, robes still tight around his hips. Bull walked over as well. 

The child teared up again. “I don't wanna be Tranquil,” he sobbed, and Bull's heart wrenched, even though fear and a bit of anger was simmering in him.

“No on is being made Tranquil,” Meershaum said firmly. “What happened? Why were you using blood magic?”

“I just wanted to be big,” he said, shaking. “I wanted to protect Lea! Jorrah is mean to her, I wanted to be able to keep her safe!”

“Lea, the Tranquil?” Meershaum asked. He nodded. “And by Jorrah, you mean the guard that's normally by the library?” He nodded again. 

Bull felt sick, and carefully knelt down as well. The boy looked terrified, surrounded by so many tall people, but he was hit by the memory of being that child, tearfully telling his Tama about an injustice he had seen. “What's Jorrah done?”

“He hits her,” he whispered. “He's mean. He was with my Circle, and she was too, and he always hit her when he thought people weren't looking.”

Meershaum's eyes blazed, but she kept her voice even. “So you thought you'd get big and hit him back.”

The child nodded, scrubbing his face. “Bullies don't stop unless you hit them harder,” he said matter of factly. “That's what I've learned. And you hit bullies really well.”

“You're not wrong,” Bull said, and the lip quivering came back.

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” Dorian asked gently. “I would have listened, or Grand Enchanter Fiona, or Enchanter Vivienne. Or Solas, though I imagine his solution would be a very quick spell at an opportune time.”

The child looked at the ground. “Adults never have before.”

oOo

With Jorrah dealt with (namely, banished) and the child now being very closely watched by Fiona, the immediate problem was managing Dorian's new... condition. Clothing was difficult. Bull was far too large for his things to fit, and Meershaum's thick curves meant her things wouldn't fit either. So for the first day, while new things were being made, Dorian stayed firmly holed up in Bull's room, pacing as he struggled to adjust.

Bull was entranced.

“I mean, if this is permanent, am I at least decent looking? By Qunari standards?” Dorian demanded after his twenty-fifth circuit of the room, still naked. Bull was carefully not drooling. “I'm hideous, aren't I?”

“You're gorgeous,” Bull said seriously. “No kidding. You're fucking hot, _kadan_.”

“Am I?” Dorian looked up at him, uncertain. Bull beckoned him over, and Dorian slunk to the bed, climbing on and curling up so he could rest his head on Bull's chest. He was so much bigger now, Bull's height, and with his horns he was an incredibly impressive sight. Bull took his hand, holding him tight.

“You're _amazing_ ,” he said warmly. “Fucking beautiful. Cullen wasn't kidding, you do look like the old Arishok, and that's _definitely_ not a bad thing.”

“Please don't tell me you fucked the Arishok.”

“What? No, not even. He was Antaam, our paths never really crossed. Even if they did, we have Tamassrans for that sort of thing. He was a pretty serious one, too. Not really my type.”

“I'm serious!” Dorian protested.

“Not like him, sweetheart.”

Dorian groaned, nuzzling him and scenting him without realizing. Bull all but purred. “My head feels all wrong. How do you move with all this excess weight?”

“How do you move without it?” Bull countered, smiling when Dorian let out a deep, rumbling bass growl. “I'm going to have to get different ropes.”

“What? Why? I like the ropes.”

“I know you do. And you're going to snap them like they're lacings,” Bull said fondly.

“...Now _there's_ an image.”

oOo

When it became clear that the spell wasn't wearing off any time soon, Dorian got a new staff, moved in properly with Bull, and had an emotional breakdown.

“Well, I needed a new mattress anyway,” Bull said, looking at the burning thing on the floor. Dorian was curled into as tiny of a ball as he could manage in the far corner, and shrank int on himself further at the sound of Bull's voice. He picked his way around the smoldering straw and canvas to kneel with a wince next to Dorian. “Hey, _kadan_. What happened here?”

“I'm sorry,” Dorian mumbled, shivering. “I'm sorry, it's just all so much. And I'm stuck like this and nothing fits right and pillows are impossible and my hands are all the wrong size and no matter how hard I try and get away I- I can't ever escape being _changed_.” He blinked back tears, carefully looking up at Bull and narrowly missing hitting his horns on the wall. “Why can't I just be me? Is this some great cosmic joke, or- or a punishment of some kind? Have I done something to offend the Dread Wolf, or been terrible enough that even Andraste turns a blind eye? Is this the price I pay for not hating who I am? My curse, for my vanity and pride?”

Bull carefully pulled him into his arms, his heart aching as Dorian let out a low, pained sob as he started crying in earnest. He carefully kissed the top of his head, rocking him a little. “I know this is hard,” he said gently. “And I know it's not okay.”

Dorian clung to him, burying his face under his chin, and Bull held him as he broke down.

oOo

Dorian began training against late in the afternoons, wearing new clothes and wielding a staff meant for someone much smaller. He made Bull's skin crawl as he relearned his stances and trained his muscles back into fighting form, and within a month they left for the Hinterlands.

It was strange, walking with Varric and two other qunari. Meershaum and Dorian were an interesting pair to work with, with Meershaum's massive muscles and Dorian's whippet lean body working in counterpart. Varric rode his pony while the three of them loped over the hills, Dorian stretching out his legs and testing his new strength and limitations. They made good time down to the camp, and that evening Dorian sprawled in front of the fire like a great oversized cat and snored his way to sleep.

They were tiny, sleepy little snores, and Bull was so in love it hurt.

The next day they made their way down through the brush and brambles, and were set on by bandits.

The fight was quick enough, Dorian's muscle memory allowing for an easy fight. His magic was far stronger than usual, and Bull's heart warmed at his familiar laugh and taunting. The bandits dealt with, they meandered off to Redcliffe village and perused the stalls.

The bookseller smiled when he saw Dorian. “Ahh, I see you've had a bit of trouble,” he said, grinning up at him. “I recognize the face, if not the body.”

Dorian smiled ruefully, touching his horns. “True enough. I was the unintended victim of a spell gone awry, but I'm making it work.”

The seller shook his head, picking up a book and handing it over. “You might find this interesting, then.”

Bull looked over, raising his eyebrows. “Self-Esteem, Shaving, and Bad Breath: The Dangers of Shapeshifting. Wait, that's a real thing?”

“Oh yes. The famed Witch of the Wilds was a renowned shapeshifter. The Korcari Wilds are home to a great many shapeshifters, it's far from impossible.” The man tapped the book. “10 royals for that, since I'm fond of you, you great lump.”

“You're too kind,” Dorian said warmly, and handed the money over.

oOo

Later that week, they were walking down near what Varric dubbed “The Romance Villa” when the Red Templars appeared.

There were four Behemoths besides the regular knights, and Dorian muttered curses as he situated himself and Meershaum roared out a challenge. Varric was cursing right along with him as they took up stances, and Bull pulled out his axe as Meershaum hefted her maul and went to it with gusto. Bull lost himself in the familiar tides of battle, moving with the flow as Dorian's barrier washed over him and flames darted over his shoulder. The first Behmoth went down just moments after the last knight, and Meershaum whirled to slam her maul on one that had caught interest in Varric. Bull picked another and went to, slamming it hard as he could and gritting his teeth as the reverberations shook up his arms. The Behemoth turned slowly, and went down just in time for Dorian to refresh his barrier. Bull turned, seeing Meershaum's fall, and then Dorian let out a pained howl.

In the space of time for the two to fall, the last Behemoth had bore down on Dorian and Varric, and Dorian had just been hit by the club. Despite his new strength he'd been thrown, body falling limp onto the ground, and the Behemoth had raised its great club.

There was no time. 

Bull knew he was running, a scream on his lips, but he was too far out. Varric was shooting, Meershaum's long gazelle legs were churning, but they were going to be too slow.

The club descended, and Bull stared in horror as Dorian closed his eyes. 

And then, Dorian just- wasn't there.

The club crashed to the ground, sound returned to the world, and Dorian as a human stood up, clapped his hands together, and channeled lightning directly into the living club. The Behemoth let out a rattling death screech as Meershaum slammed into it, and keeled over.

oOo

“Um,” Bull said blankly as Dorian gathered the now much too big robes around him. “This is new.”

Dorian glared at him. “Hush, you. I can't maintain this forever, kiss me.”

And so Bull did.

oOo

Dorian, as it turned out, could maintain it forever, even though he chose not to. Depending on the day, he would be Qunari in the morning, human in the evening, or a qunari sized human when things got really interesting.

Bull loved Dorian in all his forms, and said as much often.

Dorian just smiled, kissed him, and as far as they were concerned, lived happily ever after.


End file.
